


lilies and petunias

by falling_winter_rose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Flowers, Gen, Oneshot, Petunia - Freeform, Tears, flower - Freeform, grow, lily - Freeform, soil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 15:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15027893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falling_winter_rose/pseuds/falling_winter_rose
Summary: she hasn't cried a single tear in 17 years, but that day she broke, and the tear thunked down into the soil of that little flowerpot / petunia and the pain of a girl who was never enough, the pain of a girl who just wanted to be beautiful.





	lilies and petunias

Her finger traced the edge of the white lily, the one that had sat on her windowsill for 17 years. The one she had planted the day after the death of her only sister. How it hadn't wilted and died yet, she had no idea.

Perhaps it was some sort of witchcraft, the same magic that had killed Lily Evans keeping her namesake alive.

Lily Evans.

Petunia's sister.

Her dead sister.

Her perfect sister.

Lily Evans, whom Petunia both loves and hated.

Hated, for her perfection, her good looks, her uncanny magic, all of which Petunia didn't have.

But also loved, for her kindness, her love, and the beautiful memories of their childhood.

Petunia Dursley might resent her sister, even almost hate her, for how she was so effortlessly perfect, how she was loved and smart and happy without even trying.

But no matter how much she thought about these things, Petunia couldn't bring herself to truly hate her sister.

Try as she might, she didn't hate Lily, she just couldn't. She loved her sister, for they were family, and nothing would ever change that.

A single glistening tear traced its eat down Petunia's cheek and fell into the edge of the lily.

The droplet of water wavered, bouncing in the edge of the white petal, and then it dropped, hitting the dark soil with a  _thunk_ , soaking into the depths of the flowerpot.

Petunia stared at the dark wet spot in the soil of the flowerpot.

It was the first tear she'd cried in 17 years.

The first tear she'd cried since that fateful day when she found out her perfect sister, her loving sister, her magic sister, was dead.

The first tear she'd cried since she found that sleeping baby on her doorstep, that one Potter who was still alive.

With a sob, Petunia fell to the floor, her knees crumbling below her.

She lay against the wall, arms curled around her knees, crying into the folds of her skirt.

It had all even for nothing. Every day of every week of every month of every year, she had searched for true happiness.

Somewhere deep down, she knew it was impossible that she would find happiness, that she, the shadow of the flame, would only be able to wither and die. But she had avoided the truth, had pushed it away, not wanting to acknowledge it.

But now she let the truth sink into her, let it take place in her mind as a tsunami of tears flowed from her eyes.

For she, the shadow of the flame, could not survive without the light of the roaring, flaming sister that was now six feet underground.


End file.
